


Ball Four

by luchalibrarian



Category: Psych
Genre: Baseball, Brunch, Food, Groping, Love, Love Stories, M/M, Relationship Growth, Weaponry, old-guy love, post-series finale, schmoopy love stories, seabirds baseball
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-28
Updated: 2016-02-28
Packaged: 2018-05-23 15:47:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,222
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6121483
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/luchalibrarian/pseuds/luchalibrarian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Carlton plans a day out as an apology to Henry for being a pretty crappy boyfriend.</p><p>Sequel to Buy Or Sellout My Heart.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ball Four

**Author's Note:**

> Total schmoopy love, because that's the mindset I was in at the time. Don't worry, I'm disgusted by the syrupy sweetness, too. Dedicated to the Henry to my Carlton.

“Wake up, Papa Bear,” Carlton rumbled softly in Henry’s ear while kissing his neck.

Henry didn’t bother opening his eyes, just smiled and took hold of Carlton’s wrist, “Mmm, not awake enough for that yet, babe, slow down.”

“Not that. Wake up, I’m hungry.”

“You’re waking me up to feed you? You’re an ass,” he said with a groan as he rolled onto his back and pushed Carlton away. “Feed yourself, I want to sleep.”

“I’m waking you up to take you to breakfast. Or brunch, by the time we get there.”

One of Henry’s eyes opened and he stared for a moment, “You used the word brunch properly, what are you up to?”

“I’m not up to anything except trying to take you for food, and we may have tickets to today’s game if you get your ass out of bed in time.”

“Brunch and baseball? You’re definitely up to something, but I’ll let you spoil me regardless. Just give me a few minutes to wake up first.”

Carlton kissed the gunshot wound scar on Henry’s chest lightly, then his lips. Something about that scar was pure dirty old cop porn for him. “I’m not up to anything. Don’t take too long though, I’m starving.”

Slowly but surely Henry rolled himself out of bed and showered. It may have taken him thirty minutes to get to a point where he was ready to put clothes on, but he did it. Carlton was the morning person in this relationship, not him, except where fishing was concerned.

“Am I going out with my boyfriend or the Chief today?” Henry asked as he got dressed in shorts, a t-shirt, and his favorite pair of Chuck Taylor’s. Before the game he’d throw on his Seabirds cap and call it a day.

“You know I don’t like that word.”

“What word? Boyfriend?”

“Yes, that one.”

“What would you rather I call you?”

“Carlton works.”

Henry sighed, “you’re a pain in the ass. I’m not going to say ‘the man I’m dating’ or my ‘man friend’ or any other ridiculous thing. You are my boyfriend, or perhaps my partner, so get used to it until the nomenclature changes.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

This man was a nightmare at times. “Until you’re my fiancé or husband, you’re my boyfriend. Got it? Now again, am I going on a date with my boyfriend, or am I going to be out with Chief Lassiter today?”

Carlton knew exactly what he meant by that and unbuttoned his shirt enough to show no holster and no badge on his hip. He was dressed in jeans, a light blue plaid button-down, and dark blue low top Chuck Taylor’s. Some of Henry’s lack of fashion sense had rubbed off on him. “You’re going on a date with me. Am I clear?”

Henry smirked, “Mmhmm, you’re clear, but don’t think I don’t know you’re packing. And you’ve got an ankle strap on, too.”

“We haven’t even gotten to brunch and your mind is already in the gutter. But I am guilty on both counts,” he said with a mischievous grin.

Every once in awhile Carlton surprised him with comments like that out of nowhere. All Henry could do was chuckle, “I’m well aware, babe. Are we going to eat or not? It’s too early and I’m in desperate need of a pitcher of mimosas.”

Fifteen minutes later they were at the restaurant fully indulging in the brunch buffet, with plates full of waffles, mini quiche, and bacon, and the requested pitcher of mimosas between them.

“Are you going to tell me why you’re buttering me up?” Henry asked.

“I’m not ‘buttering you up’. We needed to eat and these are the best mimosas in town.”

“Better than mine?”

“Pleading the Fifth.”

Henry snorted, “I’ll remember that next time you beg me to make you breakfast on a Sunday morning. What I mean is, why are we suddenly going to brunch and a game? Did you do something I don’t know about?”

“No, I did not.” Carlton smiled at him. “Everything I do, you are well aware of. But you can consider it my partial apology for freaking out on you a couple of weeks ago. I’m sorry, again, for my behavior.”

“You mean throwing me out of your office, breaking up with me, and drinking yourself into a vomity mess?”

Carlton nodded and sipped his drink.

“Apology accepted, sweetheart.” Henry reached over and squeezed Carlton’s hand with a smile. “You’re lucky I have a soft spot for you, old man.”

“I know I am. You’ve put up with me when no one else would. I’d be miserable without you.” His voice was low and soft, partially because he didn’t want anyone to hear, partially because any time he opened up to Henry, he didn’t mask it in masculine bravado or his massive ego. This was one of the few times when the true Carlton came out in public.

“Remember that when we start looking for the new house. What Papa Bear says goes, right?”

“We’ll see. That’s an entirely different situation.” Henry had a way of making him grin when he really didn’t want to. “You like ugly furniture.”

“My furniture has character. Yours is bland and uniform.”

“You mean, classic and elegant.”

“No, I mean that boxy leather couch of yours is the most uncomfortable thing I’ve ever parked my ass on. No one’s going to visit us until we have a guest room or you throw that thing in a Swedish dumpster where it belongs. It looks like an IKEA vomited in your condo.”

“I’m going to ignore that.” Carlton poured the remainder of the mimosa pitcher into Henry’s glass.

“Another round?”

Carlton shook his head, “No, it’s too sweet to have any more. I’ll buy you a beer at the game.”

“A single beer? Carlton, be still, my heart.”

“Ass.”

The pair of them ate entirely too much and left the restaurant happy, with Henry just this side of tipsy. Carlton drove, of course. That was one perk of Henry being older, Carlton did things for him by default that he wouldn’t necessarily do for someone his own age or younger. Henry had the seniority, even if Carlton had a bigger, shinier badge.

“Did you hear they’re getting some tester weapons at the range next week? Jim said a couple of Ruger pistols and a SR-762 rifle.” If the grin on someone’s face could have a hard-on, Carlton’s did when he was talking about weaponry.

“I take it we’ve got a date next weekend at the range?”

“Mmhmm, we sure do. I’m getting first crack at the SR-762 since the Mayor won’t let me get one for the station. He says it’s an ‘unnecessary expense’ and the assault rifles we have on hand are ‘sufficient’. He doesn’t know shit.”

“I’m not one to agree with the Mayor,” Henry said with a sigh, “and I know a couple of those pieces were around in my day, but I’d say the PD’s arsenal is well-stocked already. Maybe if a certain Chief of Police is a good boy, Santa will get him something fun for Christmas this year.”

“After I fire it, I’ll let Santa know if I want a SR-762.”

Henry laughed with a big grin on his face. “Don’t go too crazy. We need to start looking for houses soon and if we’re going for lake or beachfront we’ll have to be conservative on other things. Like $2200 assault rifles that someone doesn’t need.”

“Why do you have to crush my dreams?”

“Because you’re adorable when you pout and you’ll do dirty things to me if it means getting what you want. I can’t imagine the filthy stuff you’d do for that rifle. I guess I’ll find that out soon, won’t I?”

“You a dirty, dirty, old man, Papa Bear.”

“And you aren’t as squeaky clean as you like to think you are, little boy.”

“Meaning?”

“Meaning you’ve literally sucked my dick so I’d make you a breakfast burrito.”

“Your point?”

“You’re a dirty little whore, Carlton.”

“If you’re going to complain, I won’t do it anymore.”

“No complaining from me. I appreciate your eagerness to please. I’m simply pointing out that you can’t sit there and call me a dirty old man when you’re just as dirty.”

“I can sit here and call you a lot of things that accurately describe you. Like dirty old man, for instance.”

“I’ll remember that in a couple of weeks when you’re handcuffed on your knees in front of me, begging Papa Bear to buy you a shiny new assault rifle for Christmas.”

Carlton shifted in his seat uncomfortably. “Mmhmm, you do that.”

“See what I mean?” He reached over and smacked Carlton’s thigh with his baseball cap, grinning from ear to ear. “Talking about you handcuffed, sucking me off is turning you on.”

“You can prove nothing.”

“I’m calling your bluff,” he said, quickly reaching over to grope him through his jeans. “Mmhmm, that’s what I thought.”

Carlton closed his hand over Henry’s for a moment and groaned before pushing him away, “That’s for the SR-762, not you. Hands off while I’m driving and have to be seen with you in public.”

Henry laughed again and pulled his cap on as they pulled into the stadium parking lot. “This is going to be a fun game.”

By the fifth inning they were each three beers in and Carlton was genuinely enjoying himself and being relaxed in public. Having a few of Henry’s baseball buddies surrounding them to shoot the shit with helped. He even had his arm draped loosely across Henry’s shoulders and they’d participated in the art of taking selfies together. Typically he was very against PDA, so this was a big deal and a banner relationship-in-public day.

“Owings is a bum. We have no pitching this year,” Carlton said shaking his head.

“I know. No pitching and there’s only one pure hitter on the team. This isn’t their season at all. It hasn’t been this bleak since ’04.”

“I’m gonna need another beer to make it through this travesty of a game, Henry.”

“Nuh uh, nope. You’re cut off after what’s in your glass.”

“Why are you cutting me off?”

“One, you’re driving me home and you have four innings to sober up. Two, we agreed last week to responsible weekend drinking only for the foreseeable future, and you’ve hit your limit today.”

Carlton looked him in the eye, smirking, “you can’t pretend to be the responsible one, you’ve had more than me.”

“That may be true, but you’re still driving me home. So we’re finishing what we have and that’s it.”

“Henry….”

“Keep arguing and I’ll take that half a beer from you and finish it myself.”

“I don’t like you,” Carlton said sipping his beer.

“You’ll like me when you don’t get brought in on a DUI, Chief.”

“You are such a pain in the ass, Henry.”

“Calling me a pain in the ass doesn’t make for a nice date. You’re digging yourself a hole.”

Carlton grinned again, “I’ll buy you a little stuffed Seabird from the souvenir shop. Will that make you happy?”

“You might consider shutting your trap. You’re going to have to take me out again for dinner to make up for this.”

“Little stuffed bird it is,” he said patting Henry’s thigh, hand lingering for a while. More PDA. Carlton was going to get this boyfriend stuff down eventually. He’d come a long way already.

“You can go get me a little stuffed bird, if you also bring me a bottle of water back.”

Carlton sighed, “do you really want water?”

Henry nodded.

“Alright. I’ll be back. Anything else?”

“No, just water. Thank you, sweetheart.” Out of habit Henry kissed him, not thinking anything of it until Carlton was staring back at him. “What?”

“Uhh… nothing. I’ll be back in a few minutes.” Too much PDA was too much. He took his time getting them each a bottle of water and really did sneak off and get Henry a little stuffed bird.

When Carlton returned Henry and his buddies were loudly booing the opposing pitcher, who’d hit a Seabirds batter. He handed the bottle of water over and held up the stuffed bird. Henry grinned when he saw it. “I know just where to put this when we get home. Thank you.”

Four terrible innings later the game mercifully ended. They made their way back to the car and waited out the leaving crowd instead of fighting the traffic.

“Despite the loss, did you have fun?” Carlton asked, smiling.

“I did, actually, because of you. This may sound strange, but I’m proud of you.”

“For what?”

“You acted like my boyfriend in public, and around a bunch of my old buddies. You don’t do that very often, if at all. It means a lot to me.”

“I’m… trying. I’ve never been a big fan of all the touchy-feely in front of people stuff.”

“I know you haven’t, but I appreciate that you’re trying.”

“You’re not going to start talking about feelings now, are you, Henry?”

“Feelings? Like how much I love you?” Henry poked him in the cheek and grinned.

“Stop! Stop, you jackass!” he said smacking his hand away.

“I can’t stop loving you, jerk.”


End file.
